


Masquerade

by hoywfiction



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Chaptered, Death, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, POV Multiple, POV changes each chapter, Sexual Assault, Suicide, alrIGHTy then i'm bad at this but good at writing ish, give it a chance if you hate it past chapter 2 then abort mission that's understandable, not ship focused but there are more than the ships i mentioned for sure, third person tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-16 04:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12335601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoywfiction/pseuds/hoywfiction
Summary: The zombie apocalypse AU that nobody asked for





	1. Chapter 1

The night was still, stars shining overhead from a whole universe away and joining the soft glow of the half moon. A fire blazed in the center of a handful of worn down buildings, a wall or two replaced by tarps, surrounded by crude fencing and barbed wire. Through the quiet air the faint sound of laughter carried, bright but not too loud.

“Yeah, well if you figure out how to get through a horde without a gun, you let me know,” Calibre said, a smirk on his lips as he gestured across the pit with an open bottle in his hand.

“I have,” Delirious responded from behind his hockey mask as he tapped a hand on the trusty wooden bat leaning against the cinder block beside him.

“That’s only gonna do you so good though before you get overrun,” Nanners pointed out, lifting an eyebrow and leaning forwards. “Although it’s quieter than a gun. Less noise, less zombies.”

“More bullets, less zombies,” Wildcat quipped back. He was sat on the ground and leaned against a wall with an arm slung over Mini’s shoulders.

“This is why we don’t give you the guns,” Vanoss chuckled, eyes gleaming as the flames reflected in them. Things were very rarely this calm these days. That was true of the past seven months, or ever since the whole zombie epidemic had begun. Arlan supposed that’s why he couldn’t convince himself to relax like the rest of the Masquerade, instead stood against a tree farther back listening to the sounds of the woods, holding true to the silent part of SilentDroidd.

“Either way, we can’t stay here forever,” he heard Moo say, voice more serious than the others. He glanced towards him, seeing the longing on his face from the light cast over his features. Basically placed a hand on his arm and smiled sympathetically.

“You’ll see her again,” he reassured his friend, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “And you’ll get to meet your kid, I promise.”

Around the circle everyone muttered agreements, but Arlan’s attention was dragged from the conversation as something snapped. Not a log in the fire but something outside of the camp. His head whipped in the direction he’d heard it from, finger dancing along the trigger of his gun, but the noise didn’t make a reappearance.

“What about you, Marcel? You anxious to see Simone?” asked Nogla as Arlan pushed himself off the tree, standing up tall and taking a few tentative steps towards the barrier.

“Of course I am,” he replied. “Once we get to the safe point I’m never leaving her side again.”

“If we ever get enough supplies to leave here, that is,” Sark added dully, and though it was a much less hopeful comment than the rest, nobody denied it and instead fell quiet. And that quiet was what allowed Arlan to hear it, another crack just beyond the wall that one would miss if they weren’t already listening. With his eyebrows furrowing he moved a few paces back and tapped on the shoulder of the person closest to him.

“What?” Racingcatz asked, glancing up at him as the others began on another topic of discussion.

“There’s something there,” Arlan said, eyes trained on the place he’d last heard something move. He could sense his friend’s confusion but even so Catz stood up with a hand on the pistol tucked into his waistband.

“Let’s check it out,” he said. Arlan looked over at him, meeting his gaze. With a dutiful nod they crept towards the metal sheet that doubled as a door, unable to distinguish from the rest of the wall unless you knew where to look. Catz slid it aside, gesturing for Arlan to walk through, and then they were out in the open to be cradled by the darkness of the night.

“Zombies?” Catz asked as he stood at Arlan’s side, sounding less than enthused about the idea. But as he peered around in the trees, Arlan knew that, if there really were something out there and he weren’t just losing his mind, it wasn’t their usual undead. It was in his gut.

“No,” he breathed, leveling his gun and sweeping the brush to fire at a moment’s notice.

“I kinda wish you’d said yes, Catz mumbled, tugging his own weapon from his belt and holding it at the ready, just as alert as Arlan himself. They listened, but beyond Terroriser’s distinct voice coming back from within the walls there was nothing.

“Split up,” Arlan said. He sent a glance over Catz, who hummed in agreement before they started walking in opposite directions. He had two theories about what could be out here, one good and the other not so good. The first was that some survivors could have stumbled upon the camp, and were trying to figure out if the people residing within it were friends or foes. The second was—

“HE—!” Catz’s shout ended abruptly. Arlan went rigid, fingers tightening on his gun as he ran towards the sound. His heart sank in his chest as he saw a crumpled form. As he fell into the leaves beside his friend’s body, he knew that the second theory, the one he’d been afraid of, was the right one. He turned his head in every direction and sought for the person who’d done this but he didn’t see anyone.

“Catz,” he said as he turned his attention to him, but the boy didn’t say anything. Arlan swallowed. His throat was tight as he put a hand on his arm. “Cody?”

Arlan rolled him over. Catz flopped like a rag doll. His eyes were wide open, fear glazing them over, and Arlan closed his own and turned his head away as grief rose in his chest. Despite his better judgement he let his gun fall onto the ground beside him, balling his hands in Catz’s jacket and pressing his forehead against the fallen Masquerader's collar bone. A quiet sob passed through his lips as tears escaped his eyes, and that was when he heard the telltale sound of a bullet falling into a chamber.

“Last words?” came a voice, rough and unfamiliar. Arlan grit his teeth as rage flooded his brain. He jerked around, gazing into the face of a tall man hidden mostly in the shadows, holding a pistol towards Arlan’s forehead. In the mysterious person’s free hand he held a silencer, the one that had probably been attached to the muzzle when he’d murdered Cody.

“Go to hell,” Arlan growled. He swore he saw the man smile.


	2. Chapter 2

When he’d heard someone shout it had been easy to write off as somebody being drunk and stupid elsewhere in the camp. When he heard the gunshot, it became obvious that wasn’t what was going on. Brock, along with the other Masqueraders, jumped up from their various places with weapons in hand.

“Who’s missing?” Cartoonz demanded at once, face scolded into a practiced expressionlessness.

“Racingcatz,” Ohm said after a moment as he glanced around the fire pit to take a tally of their present members.

“And Droidd,” McQuaid tacked on nervously from beside him. “This isn’t good.”

“No shit, Bryce,” Fourzero said, giving him a look before turning and running towards the wall. Everyone who didn’t already have a mask covering their face pulled theirs down, the group’s way of preparing for a battle. Shoving his fears as deep down as he could Brock did the same. He wrapped his hand firmly around his axe before following Fourzero’s lead.

Before any of them reached the door it slid open on its own, stopping the group dead in their tracks. In through the gap where they hoped for Droidd or Catz came a random figure. He acted faster than they could react, firing rapidly into the crowd. They scattered, and Brock dove behind a crate just barely in time to avoid the shower of bullets.

He could hear his heart beating in his ears louder than the gun as he clung to his weapon. His eyes searched around frantically for his friends. To his left he could see Vanoss with his back against a wall, firing around the corner with his own gun every few moments when he got the chance, Delirious crouched at his side and telling him when it was safe to shoot. A little closer up to the raiders (who were increasing in number every second) Daithi narrowly avoided being killed, falling onto the ground and taking cover behind a horizontal steel beam. Though Brock couldn’t see them he could hear Toonz and Ohm shouting back and forth to one another, and was just starting to fear they’d lost McQuaid when he heard him yell something along the lines of _get wrecked!_

“Moo!” He jumped as someone suddenly slid in beside him. It took him a moment to process that it was Terroriser. “Come on, this way.”

“But what about them?” Brock said as he looked out towards Vanoss and Delirious, then Nogla— now with Mini who was hiding against the metal beam along with him.

“Tyler’s on it,” Terroriser replied. He flinched as the shooting began again at full force. Without another word Brock followed him, timing their sprints between objects and eventually finding themselves at the back of the camp. There was a crudely dug tunnel beneath the wall, just big enough for a grown man to slip through. Which was what Brock did. He held his breath as he squeezed beneath the metal and crawled up through the other side.

“Come on,” someone said. Brock looked up, clasping the hand offered down to him. He coughed on some of the dust but he and the other three stationed there all seemed unharmed. Calibre, still holding Brock’s arm, gave him a feeble smile. “No holes in you?”

He returned the same gesture, shaking his head and trying his best to tune out the noises from behind him. “No.” He looked at his other two friends. McQuaid was watching the camp with nervous anticipation, Fourzero was sat on a stump with his face in his hands. The smile fell much more easily than it’d come. “What…?”

Calibre too let the facade fade, letting go of Brock and shoving his hands in his pockets. “He was hiding with Panda. Brian got Fourzero out but Anthony…”

He didn’t say more, and he didn’t have to. Brock squeezed his eyelids shut and hung his head. The realization that they’d lost friends today hit him like a train. Yet somehow he managed to keep it together, taking in a shaky breath and opening his eyes. “So… Terroriser and Wildcat are going search and rescue?”

McQuaid finally snapped out of his trance, taking a few steps over and joining the conversation. “Of people. Basically’s gathering whatever we can carry.”

For the first time Brock noticed the small pile of bags gathered at Fourzero’s feet. On one hand he wanted to yell at them for daring to think about supplies at a time like this, and on the other he wanted to applaud them for having the ability to think about supplies at a time like this. While he’d much rather have his friends alive over food and first aid kits, he knew that even if they survived this they wouldn’t for long without those items. “And we are?”

“Waiting,” Calibre said. He rushed towards the wall as he spotted movement at the escape tunnel. Brock and McQuaid followed, and soon they were helping to drag Delirious out of the ground.

“Update?” McQuaid asked as the blue hooded figure hopped to his feet, ever present energy radiating from him.

“Vanoss, Toonz and Ohm are holding them off,” Delirious reported as he brushed the dirt from his clothes. “Wildcat and Terroriser are working on Nogla and Mini. And Marcel’s about to start tossing a whole buncha shit over that we’re gonna catch.”

He spun to face the wall, and Brock and Calibre shared a worried look. “Nanners? Sark?” Calibre asked. Though it was only a split second they all caught the way Delirious paused.

“Down,” he said simply before settling into a bracing position.

“Down or dead?” Fourzero spoke up. Delirious let out a breath as he adjusted his mask.

“Dead,” he amended quietly, though he gave no time for mourning. “Toss ‘em, Basically!”

One by one bags flew over the barbed wire, landing in their hands and being added to the pile by the tree stump. This hadn’t been enough to move from their camp towards the safe point only an hour ago but now it would be plenty for what remained of the Masquerade… (The thought made Brock sick to his stomach.) “That’s it, get me through!” Basically shouted. McQuaid darted forward to yank him from the hole.

“Good work,” Calibre said, clapping his friend on the arm once he was standing. But Brock’s mind was somewhere else entirely. Something about their escape plan was making him uneasy, and he was trying to peg exactly what.

“If they aren’t out soon, I’m going back in,” Basically announced, sounding out of breath from running around gathering supplies. He pulled the worn dinosaur mask off his face and added it to the pile. “I feel like a fucking weasel or something sliding through that stupid tunnel.”

And suddenly it clicked. Brock took a sharp breath that caught everyone’s attention, looking frantically from the hole to the guys. “If _I_ had a hard time getting through that thing, there’s no way Tyler’s gonna fit.”

The truth of the statement washed over them. Brock could see the fear in their eyes. Wildcat’s impressive size was something that they were often grateful for as it scared off others, but it was something they hadn’t accounted for in this scenario. Delirious was the first one falling to his knees. He clawed desperately at the ground to make the tunnel bigger. It was a life or death race against time, and the way the dirt was collapsing in on itself wasn’t helping. “Come on, come on…” Fourzero kept muttering at Brock's side as they contributed to the efforts.

“Daithi’s hurt, get him through!” came a shout, and they all helped to do just that as Nogla’s arm popped out from under the wall. He staggered as they got him up but he stayed standing, shaking his head.

“I’m alright,” he said as he grabbed onto McQuaid’s shoulder for support and wiped the blood trickling from the gash above his eyebrow out of his vision. “One of the fuckers just got me with the back of the gun.”

“Toonz, go!” came another call, and it dawned that they’d run out of time now. They’d have to hope that the gap was large enough. Cartoonz sprung out of the tunnel on his own, immediately wrapping his arms around Delirious in an embrace while Ohm followed in his wake, his once white bunny suit covered in patches of different kinds.

“Everyone grab a bag,” Ohm said as Brock helped him to his feet, eyeing the dark red stain on his arm but doing as he’d instructed. Ohm must have noticed his gaze because he plastered on an empty smile, eyes unreadable from behind the omega stamped bandana tied around his temples. “Sark.”

“Ah.” Brock didn’t say more, just slung a bag onto his back and glanced towards the barrier. Most of them were here now but Wildcat, Mini, Terroriser and Vanoss were still all in the camp and the gunshots hadn’t stopped yet.

“Go the fuck through, Brian!” Wildcat yelled from the other side, and the guys sprung at the tunnel, retrieving their friend from the soil like a weed. Brock caught the way he grimaced and hooked his arms under Terroriser’s, dragging him out of the way and sitting him against the tree stump among the bags.

“You okay?” he asked as he crouched down beside him. Terroriser nodded despite how exhausted he seemed and the obviously injured hand he was clutching. A tired smirk played on his lips, and Brock raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Punched the guy who killed Anthony out cold,” he said with pride. Brock almost laughed but didn’t get the chance.

“Tyler, come on!” Mini screamed, having gotten out of the camp now as well. Brock looked over to see his friend’s face covered more with fear than with dirt, staring back at the metal divide that had once kept them safe.

“I’m not gonna fit, dammit!” Wildcat called. Brock, Calibre, McQuaid and Delirious exchanged looks of defeat and despair. There was no more time for digging, not if they wanted to actually leave the area and get to safety. “Hang on, I got a plan.”

“God,” Mini said over misted eyes, turning away and grabbing one of the bags with frustration. Reluctantly the rest of them followed suit. Time ticked on slowly. Each second the probability that Wildcat and Vanoss were dead increased…

“GO!” That was Vanoss. They spun around almost in unison to see Wildcat vaulting over the wall. Brock felt his breath catch in his throat as he watched his leg catch on the barbed wire lining the top of the fence, causing him to scream out in pain as he came toppling ungracefully to the floor. Immediately Mini and Nogla were at his side and sitting him up, Brock’s focus on the blood that was seeping into his shredded jeans, running from below his knee to his ankle.

“Fuck,” Wildcat grit out, holding tightly onto Mini’s forearm as Fourzero ran up with bandaging.

“Where’s Vanoss?” Delirious asked into the air, blue eyes round enough that they were almost popping out from the holes in his mask. As if on cue their red-clad leader came skidding through the tunnel, splattered with blood that Brock had a feeling wasn’t his own.

“We have to go,” he said as soon as he gathered himself, eyes whipping around as he named off the Masqueraders under his breath. “Panda, Sark and Nanners?”

“Dead,” Delirious responded gravely. Vanoss didn’t dwell on it. Instead he helped get Wildcat on his feet as soon as Fourzero had done all he could with the gauze rolls, then tugged two of the backpacks onto his arm.

“Can you walk?” he asked. The pig-masked man nodded.

“I can _run_ ,” he said confidently. Vanoss nodded once before running to the head of the group, shouting for the others to follow. Brock trailed at the back to keep a worried eye on Wildcat, but true to his word he was holding pace with everyone else despite the slight limp he carried.

“So where are we going now?” Brock said, the inquiry falling on the ears of Terroriser, who slowed his run to match Brock’s speed.

“Anywhere but here,” he answered with an absent smile, and all Brock found himself hoping was that he really would live long enough to see his wife and child.


	3. Chapter 3

Morning was coming around as the Masquerade stumbled out of the trees and into an abandoned town. The pavement was cracked and broken but was still much more level than the woods they’d been bolting through, a welcome change as far as Brian was concerned. His eyes darted between the buildings before he turned to the group, about to comment how the place seemed almost _too_ empty when he realized what was going on, the words dying on his tongue.

“I swear to _fucking_ god, if this is the thing that does me in…” Wildcat grunted, slipping his arm away from Mini’s neck as the shorter man sat him down on a shabby metal bench. The wound he’d gotten from the barbed wire had bled enough that the bandages Fourzero had wrapped it in were completely soaked through. Scarlet dripped freely from his leg onto the cement.

“It won’t be,” Mini reassured him, pulling his bag off to determine if he had any better medical supplies on hand.

“Don’t think it’s too deep,” Wildcat said as Brian walked over. Pain was clear on his face as he yanked the pig mask off his head. “Just… big.”

“Could’ve been a lot worse,” Mini said as he removed the stained gauze, discarding it on the ground beside him before pulling out a medical needle and thread. He and Wildcat made eye contact for a solid couple of seconds before Wildcat sighed. He nodded and leaning his head back, scrunching his eyes closed.

“Someone get me something to bite on,” he groaned. Calibre offered him a leather glove a moment later. Everyone dispersed to do their own thing as Mini began the impromptu suturing, Wildcat letting out stifled noises of agony as the process went.

“Anyone else hurt?” asked Vanoss. Despite talking at a normal pitch he seemed to echo in the desolate strip.

“You are,” Delirious stated, and Brian glanced over at them, noticing the way Vanoss was cradling his wrist.

“Bullet just grazed me, it’s fine,” he said, shaking his fingers out and replacing his hands at his side as if to prove the point further. Although _he_ was alright and Wildcat was being taken care of, Brian didn’t trust that everyone else was. He took the time to look each and every one of his friends over. He’d seen Anthony die right in front of him, and he just… couldn’t lose anyone else right now.

His attention got trapped on Nogla. He was furiously wiping blood out of his eyes every few seconds or so, although that wasn’t the part that had Brian monitoring him. The most worrying part were the tears that mixed with the blood, and as Brian approached him, he tried to make it appear like they weren’t tears at all. “Hey…”

Daithi sniffed as he looked up at Brian through his eyelashes, his head down. “I’m okay.”

Brian rolled his eyes at that, taking his bag off his back and rummaging through it for some sort of dressing. He ended up finding a small square cloth and some tape, which he held up with a gesture to the wound above his friend’s eye. “It’ll keep it from bleeding in your face.”

Although he seemed wary Nogla eventually nodded, and Brian wiped some of the blood away before placing the cloth over the gash and situating it properly. “Everything good here?” Calibre asked as he came up behind them. Brian hummed, taking a step back.

“He just had that cut on his head that was worrying me,” Brian said, glancing over at Calibre. “Though he’s also crying and that worries me too.”

“Am not!” Nogla barked as his eyes snapped up to glare at Brian. But then Calibre had his arms wrapped around the taller man’s waist and Daithi deflated, returning the embrace with a frown on his lips. “When Nanners got hit his body landed in front of where we were hiding. We couldn’t do anything and he was just… just dead.”

Although Brian wanted to stay and talk it out he suddenly felt like he were intruding on a moment he wasn’t invited to be a part of. So he migrated towards the center of the street, gazing down the foggy road into the distance. Just in time, it would appear, to see the shadowy figure lurking in the murky air. “Guys?”

“What?” Brian glanced to his right at the voice. Wildcat was hobbling up beside him with sweat plastering his hair against his face. The tall man rested a hand on Brian’s shoulder, and he anxiously pointed out the silhouette. “Shit… We can never catch a break.”

“I know,” Brian said back, though neither of them needed to make an announcement about it because the rest of the group apparently heard them. They all gathered together, Vanoss and Delirious taking the lead as usual while Wildcat limped at the rear.

“We need to find a car or something,” Marcel said, coming up beside Brian and looking around for just that. “Tyler’s only gonna be able to stay up for so long.”

“Fuck you bitch, I’m f—” He bit his teeth together abruptly as he took an uneven step, stumbling and nearly collapsing, saved only by the collective effort of Mini, Brian and Toonz.

“There, that way,” Fourzero chimed, pointing towards a bus at the side of the road a couple of meters away. It looked like it had been driven into its own bus stop pole before being abandoned but other than cosmetic damage it should be in working condition. Collectively they moved in the direction of the vehicle, the echos of their footsteps making Brian cringe.

“AH!” He was faster than his friends, the first to whirl around and see Mini desperately yanking his arm away from the clutches of rotting flesh. Without thinking he raised his gun and fired. The bullet soared through the zombie’s head and sent it unforgivingly to the ground. Mini stared at him with a mixture of appreciation and disbelief, and everyone else stopped walking at the sound of the shot ringing through the atmosphere and traveling in every direction.

“Brian… What did you just do…” McQuaid whispered in terror. Distantly, but not distantly enough, they could hear the sickening and indistinguishable chatter of walkers making their way towards their prey. While several of the guys ran to the bus and got to work on hot wiring it Brian dropped his gun at his side and pressed his fingers against the side of his skull, shame tinting his face pink.

“Ah, shit…”


	4. Chapter 4

“Make space boy, we gotta get people on this thing and fast,” Luke said into the open door. Delirious nodded before cramming himself against the driver’s seat. Luke himself hopped on, pressing his back against the front part of the vehicle before turning to look at the other guys. He reached out towards Wildcat, a friendly smirk on his face. “Come on, you’re up first.”

Though he looked like he wanted to argue Wildcat grabbed onto his hands, and they hoisted him into the cabin together, decidedly ignoring the pained sound that he made as he stepped up. Luke gave him a second to move out of the way before turning back again, waving at Mini and Ohm to jump in next. “Bryce, get the fuck over here!” Ohm yelled. Luke scanned around for McQuaid, spotting him still stood by Terroriser. With a start the kid snapped back into reality and ran over, easily leaping into the bus and into Ohm’s extended arms.

“They’re fast. They’re fu— RUNNERS! THEY HAVE FUCKING RUNNERS!” A jolt went through the guys so intensely that it seemed like electricity passed between them all. Luke glanced over Basically to see what he did. Sure enough, the zombies were coming in hot, and much faster than the usual walker. He clenched his jaw, leaping from the vehicle to get his hands on Basically and Fourzero.

“Get in you idiots, get in!” he yelled. He shoved them towards the bus as he looked around. They were more separated than they should have been, and if they didn’t regroup _now_ , it was going to get deadly. “Moo! Daithi...!”

Upon hearing his name Moo immediately came running towards the door. Nogla, on the other hand, was frozen in place as he stared at the incoming horde. Luke was just about to dart the several feet to grab him when Calibre came out of nowhere, latching Nogla by the wrist and dragging him towards safety. “David, you dumbass!”

That left three. “Come at me, motherfuckers!” Luke heard a familiar scream, and he jogged around the bus to see Vanoss, Delirious and Terroriser all standing at the ready.

“The hell are you doing?” Luke demanded as he ran up to them, anger flaring in his voice because for fucksake, _Delirious didn’t even have a gun_. Just that stupid baseball bat.

“Is everyone on?” Vanoss asked. He refused to take his eyes off the zombies as they came ever closer.

“Aside from you fucks out here trying to play the hero,” Luke snapped.

“Then we’re leaving,” Terroriser piped up, dropping his gun and booking it towards the bus. Vanoss and Delirious were quick to do the same, and the three of them hopped on board, Luke being the last.

“Step on it, Scotty!” Wildcat’s voice boomed. With that they were tearing down the street, barreling down any walker or runner that dared stray into their path. None of them breathed a word until the town had faded into the horizon, the horde a mile away.

“Let’s not pull shit like that again, huh?” Nogla barked before swatting Terroriser over the back of the head. He recieved a whine of protest in return.

“Leave him alone, he was saving me,” Mini said from the other side of the bus, slouched into Wildcat with the taller man’s arm looped around his back protectively. “I was stupid and almost got myself bit.”

Wildcat’s grip got a little tighter but he didn’t say anything, staring out the window with his lips pressed into a tight line. Aside from those two everyone had pretty much taken a bench to themselves, either talking to the person in the row in front of or behind them. Some were making faces at the person across from them. Luke, along with Vanoss he guessed from the way he was looking around, took a mental score to make sure for the dozenth time that everyone was truly here.

“I keep trying to count for eighteen,” Vanoss said after a couple seconds, sat in the seat across from Luke. Droidd, Catz, Sark, Panda, Nanners… They weren’t the first people the Masquerade had lost, and though it made him want to scream, Luke knew they wouldn’t be the last before this was all over. He sighed, reaching up and pulling off his mask when he noticed the others starting to do the same.

“Can’t you do it just once?” Calibre said. Luke didn’t have to even look his way to know he was talking to one of two people. This conversation came up every time the masks came off, and it would seem now was no different.

“It’s not happening,” Delirious responded, lying on two of the chairs with his legs straight up against the window and his head dangling in the aisle. “The hockey mask is a piece of me.”

“Well what’s _your_ excuse?” came Basically. He jabbed a finger towards Ohm, who was sat near the back with a smirk on his face.

“You guys know what I look like,” he said in a playful tone.

“But we’ve never seen your fuckin’ eyes,” Daithi said, turning around to face him. “Or out of the… Have we seen him out of the bunny suit for that matter?”

Confused mutters swept around the bus, but eventually they settled on a no, they’d never seen Ohm out of the bunny onesie before either. As they all continued trying to persuade Delirious and Ohm to de-mask Luke couldn’t help but smile to himself. He was going to miss the friends they’d lost, god was he gonna miss them, but he was grateful to still have the ones here in this bus alive and well.

“I have,” McQuaid said innocently. A handful of the guys stared at him in shock while some of the others choked back laughter.

“You’ve seen him out of the suit or without the bandana?” Mini asked, to which McQuaid shrugged, sitting up straight with his hands tucked between his knees like a child.

“Both?” McQuaid replied. Luke snorted, but even then he still heard Ohm’s chuckle.

“Yeah he has,” he said suggestively. Despite not being able to see his eyes Luke just _knew_ he winked.

“Shut the fuck up you sin filled little bastard,” Wildcat swooped in out of the blue, practically singing the words, and the vehicle erupted with laughter. For a brief moment Luke’s mind flashed back to the last time they'd all been like this. It was just at the start of the zombie infections, before anyone knew how serious it would become. The Masquerade had just formed, more as a joke than as a serious means to survive, and Daithi had made up some ridiculous song to serenade Terroriser with.

Though everyone continued laughing and making jokes, Luke’s smile fell, and he wrung his hands nervously. He wondered if things would ever be how they used to be again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: this is the chapter that has some sexual assault in it, though it's brief.

Marcel’s eyes flew open as they hit a bump on the road, scrambling to sit up in his seat. The sun was setting now. As he glanced out the window he realized he had no idea where they were. Not that he ever really did, though to be fair it wasn’t like they had Google Maps these days. He sighed to himself, settling down again and taking a look around the bus. Most everyone was still asleep but in the back corner someone was muttering quietly.

Marcel blinked a couple of times to force his eyes to adjust to the lack of lighting, taking a second to process that said someone was Fourzero talking with whoever was sitting next to him. “Why wouldn’t we? It’s not the safe point but it’s better than the goddamn bus.”

“Don’t diss the bus, it’s been doing good for the past few days,” came Ohm’s familiar voice in response. Marcel narrowed his eyes as he got to his feet and made his way over to them.

“But we’re gonna need to get more food and stuff eventually,” Fourzero pouted as Marcel took the seat behind them. Both men looked up towards him.

“Morning Basically,” Ohm said, giving a salute and a smile. Marcel nodded back to him in acknowledgement as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

“What’re you two over here talking about?” he asked, draping his arms lazily around Fourzero and plopping his head on the man’s shoulder.

“There’s a market up ahead. I was saying we should stop,” he explained as he placed a hand over Marcel’s and glanced towards Ohm. “He doesn’t think we should.”

“I’m just saying that the markets are dangerous,” Ohm said, putting his hands up by his head in submission. “I’m all for restocking supplies. I just don’t think we should go in actually _believing_ that the markets are peaceful like they say.”

“I have to agree,” Marcel stated. Ohm gestured to him and raised an eyebrow at Fourzero, who sighed and shook his head.

“Yeah, fine. I’m gonna go pitch the idea to Vanoss.” He patted Marcel’s arm before pulling himself up out of his seat, moving to the front of the bus where their leader was curled up across two of the seats with his head ducked. Within an hour they were pulling up outside a run down city, gated off and patrolled by men with guns. The only people who had them.

Markets weren’t quite safe points but they were better than the rest of the world. There were no firearms allowed within the walls and they were kept zombie-free, though they had been known to get overrun a time or two. People _did_ live within the markets but for the most part makeshift shopkeepers resided there, selling and trading wares with travelers. Such as the Masquerade.

“This feels invasive,” Terroriser grumbled as the guards patted them each down, though none of them had firing weapons on their person as they’d stashed them in the bus. They knew better than to risk being turned away by attempting to keep a pistol hidden on them. Marcel bit his teeth together as the guard practically grabbed his ass, glaring over his shoulder at the indifferent man as they passed through the market’s walls.

“Should we break off into groups?” suggested Wildcat as everyone gathered at the entrance. Several of them removed their masks, their eyes roaming around with curiosity. The city wasn’t fantastic but in comparison to the small camp they’d called home for so long it was wondrous.

“No, we’re staying together. Safety in numbers,” Ohm piped up, turning his attention towards Vanoss along with everyone else. When their leader nodded they all silently conceded to do as Ohm said, getting closer together almost on instinct. As usual Vanoss and Delirious took the front while Wildcat and Moo brought up the back. Together the Masquerade moved as a unit through the market.

Though they had little to give they managed to barter for a couple of things, such as some more bandages and food. Marcel even got himself a Rubix cube to amuse himself with. Hours ticked by and everyone got their chance to trade, more than half of them ending up with some kind of toy. They were all laughing at McQuaid who had gotten a rubber ball and was bouncing it as they went, chasing it around the street like a puppy. Marcel chuckled as it went wildly out of the way and rolled into a side alley.

“Go get it, boy,” Nogla teased. McQuaid grinned and rolled his eyes before running after it.

“Told you this was a good idea,” Fourzero said, falling back and bumping Marcel’s shoulder with his own. Marcel snickered and threw an arm around his friend, pulling him into a side hug. He wasn’t with his wife, that was something that stung him every single day, but he was with his best friends and that was the next greatest thing. (He fought off the dark thought of how some of them hadn’t made it to today.)

“Shut up,” Marcel said fondly as Fourzero curled into him. He was always one for physical affection.

“NO! PLEASE!” The moment was abruptly cut when they heard the shout, the Masqueraders all halting at the same time and whipping their heads in the direction of the sound.

“Bryce?” Ohm called, pushing through the crowd and dashing into the alley. The rest were soon to follow. They dragged on their masks, and once Marcel got a grip on the situation he felt himself go rigid. At least ten men were in a cluster, all of whom were large and terrifying-looking, and one of them had an arm wrapped around McQuaid's torso and biceps to hold him prisoner. The man's fingers were snaking beneath the hem boy’s shirt while his other hand was pressed over his mouth.

“What’re you doing?” Vanoss asked in a calm but icy tone. The guy who had McQuaid snorted, an evil grin making his yellowing teeth visible. He turned his face and pressed his nose against McQuaid's hair, taking a deep inhale that made Marcel cringe and made Bryce whimper in fear.

“Is this pretty thing yours?” asked the man in a rugged tone, making eye contact with Vanoss before letting his gaze carry over the group. It settled on Ohm, who was red in the face and clenching his fists. “No… He’s _yours_ , isn’t he?”

As if to rub it in the man let go of McQuaid's mouth and moved his hand to the boy’s crotch, grabbing roughly and pulling their bodies closer together. Bryce yelped. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking as tears slipped down his cheeks. Ohm lunged for the man with a shout of anger but didn’t even get close before one of the other goons intercepted by striking him over the back of the head with a wooden paddle. Ohm stumbled, Cartoonz catching him in his arms.

“Give us him and we’ll pay ya somethin’ for your troubles,” said the apparent leader, lips close to McQuaid's neck as he spoke. “Try to take him and someone’s gonna die.”

“Try me, fuckers,” Wildcat snarled. In a flash a brawl had begun. Marcel launched at the man closest to him, a thinner guy wielding a length of chain. Adrenaline didn’t allow him to feel the pain of the metal hitting his skin, focused only on taking his enemy out, which he eventually did with the help of the knife he’d had tucked in his waistband. As the man fell unconscious after being thrown into a wall, Marcel spun to search for someone else to attack…

He looked just in time to see the leader of the rival group grab hold of Fourzero and twist his head sharply to the left. He collapsed lifelessly to the pavement in what felt like slow motion. Marcel's heart stopped as the sound of his friend’s body hitting the concrete seemed to echo throughout the alley. The pain of seeing Fourzero's ghostlike eyes staring into nothingness was one adrenaline couldn't fight off. There was a buzzing in his ears as his mind went numb, but even then he heard Nogla's scream.

" _SCOTTY_ …!"


	6. Chapter 6

The world froze as the Masquerade stared at Fourzero’s corpse. David could barely remember how to breathe, his mind went into denial. Scotty wasn’t really dead. They could save him. He’d be alright.

But he knew that his friend was gone. His hand went slack on his knife and all he could do was stare with tears pricking at the backs of his eyes. Suddenly one of his friends let out a yell that sounded more like a roar, and David turned to glance over his shoulder. Wildcat pounced at the leader of the enemies with such ferocity that even he, who’d shown only smugness up until now, looked afraid. Nobody could react before Wildcat was pounding the shit out of him, blood and teeth flying while both of them screamed.

“Enough! That’s enough!” Mini shouted as he leapt at his friend, pulling him away and looking at the pulp of a man huddled on the ground. But Wildcat’s rage didn’t fade from his eyes and he rounded on the remaining rogues, directing a crimson painted finger towards the person who McQuaid had been passed off to. He didn’t even need to say anything. The man pushed the captive towards the Masquerade and took off running in the opposite direction.

As the remaining men gathered their injured buddies and fled David dropped to his knees at Fourzero’s side. His neck was very obviously broken, his lips parted with the last words he never got the chance to say. David swallowed harshly and he reached out to close his friend’s eyes, his hand shaking as he did so. His only comfort was that he got to see the rogue leader take his final breath, Wildcat's attack leaving him to bleed out into the nearby sewage drain.

“This is my fault,” McQuaid said unevenly from somewhere behind him. David looked over at him with a sympathetic look on his face. The boy was sitting on the ground with his knees drawn up to his chest and his hand clutching in the hem of Cartoonz’s shirt. Toonz was frowning, an arm around his friend’s back as he rubbed his arm comfortingly.

“It’s not,” he reassured him, but the tears didn’t stop welling up in McQuaid’s eyes and David felt whatever was left of his heart shatter as the boy lifted a trembling hand to point at Fourzero.

“He should be alive. He should be alive right now.”

“I know,” said Ohm softly as he came to McQuaid’s side, gathering him in his arms and nodding gratefully to Cartoonz who reclaimed his arm once McQuaid pressed his face against Ohm’s chest.

“We have to go,” said Delirious solemnly, looking down at Fourzero and sounding just as dazed as David felt. “If they have any more friends they’re gonna bring them back to finish what they started.”

“Someone get Scotty,” said Vanoss brokenly. He removing his owl mask and looked around at his remaining friends with mournful eyes. “I don’t wanna leave him here.”

Silently the Masquerade regrouped, Basically taking it upon himself to scoop up their fallen member. David took off his mask and wiped under his eyes as he fell into step behind Vanoss and beside Calibre. “You okay?” the latter asked as David watched Delirious lag behind just to keep his undivided attention on their leader. He shook his head.

“Not really,” he said honestly in a weak voice. “I don’t want to keep losing people I care about.”

Calibre swallowed hard but didn't say anything. What was there to say? When they got to the bus everyone let Basically get on first. As David climbed in he watched his pal place Scotty’s limp form across one of the seats, wiping tears from his cheeks after he let him go. “Nogla, move,” said Terroriser gently. David brought himself back and did as he was instructed. He sat himself close to the back of the bus, Calibre taking the seat across from him and gazing out the window.

They drove for a little over an hour without anyone making a single noise. The only sound that filled the cabin was the occasional hiccup or gasp as someone took a break between sobs. They’d seen people die, several times, and not too long ago. But if anyone felt like David, this time it was different. Because it was Scotty, their loving and energetic Scotty, and _his_ death was something that they could have prevented.

It was dark when Vanoss pulled the bus to the side of the road, cutting the engine and standing at the front of the aisle. “Come on.”

Nobody needed to ask what they were doing, they could all guess. With twelve people it was easy to dig a hole the right size for Fourzero, and in due time they had said their final goodbyes around a freshly disturbed plot of soil. David crouched by the grave and placed his hand on the dirt, biting his lip hard. Their lives were so easy to lose, their friends were so easily stolen away from them, and there was nothing they could do about it.

“Nogla.” He looked up. Calibre was smiling softly at him and offering a hand to help him up. David returned the empty expression, reaching up to take it. That was when the sound of a gun resonated through the air. David screamed as blood splattered his face and chest, scrambling backwards as Calibre fell to the dust with a hole blown in his head.

“DAITHI COME ON!” Terroriser screamed in panic. With a final look Nogla rocketed to his feet and dashed into the bus. They’d hardly closed the door before Delirious tore out of there, driving as fast as the vehicle would allow down the cleared roads. David tripped to get to a window, pulling it open and looking behind them. In pursuit were two shitty cars, barely running but running enough that they were following close behind.

“It’s those fucking pricks from the market!” Terroriser shouted. He grabbed up one of the guns and poked his head out an open window to shoot. Others followed the idea, taking up pistols and shotguns and aiming at the cars. David took a pistol and let off a few rounds, but none that did any good.

“Got one!” Mini shouted victoriously. David watched as one of the vehicles swerved. The passenger of it tossed the dead man from the seat and took over, the body bouncing along the concrete.

“We need you, Delirious!” Wildcat called. David whipped his head to the driver’s seat. In a split second decision he ran over and placed a hand on the wheel, giving Delirious a nod. He was their best shot. If anyone had a chance of taking out the rest of the thugs it was him.

Turned out that was true. Within minutes the rest of the enemies were gone, and the Masquerade hooted in celebration. All David thought about was driving, getting somewhere, anywhere. Anywhere like the town they eventually came to, just as they were running out of gas. He threw the thing in park and clambered out into the street as he frantically wiped blood from his face. Lui’s blood. His friend’s blood. He choked back tears as he rubbed fiercely at his skin and clothes, trying to get it all off, he needed it to be _gone_ and he just couldn’t erase the red stains from his shirt no matter how he tried.

“Nogla, hey—” That was Delirious but he didn’t care. He subconsciously pushed him away and stumbled over to something to hold on to, an old bike rail. As soon as his fingers wrapped around the metal he doubled over and expelled the contents of his stomach, still scrubbing what remained of Calibre off his hands like he could somehow pretend that wasn’t what it was.


End file.
